Mighty Fanfic Collection of DOOM
by Fanatic Drone N
Summary: A series of random ideas I had that may become stories, depending on how many reviews they get. Also accepting oter authors' ideas for oneshots.
1. Da Mighty Fanfic Collection of DOOM

Greetings, Fanfictionites! Er… Fanfictionians? Fanfictionteers… Never mind.

The story you are reading right now is a collection of oneshots, ideas that I had that I want to try out to see if you like them. I'll also turn any of your suggestions into oneshots, and test them the same way (please note that this means **I** will be the one writing the story if people like it). Also: Keep your story suggestions down to one or two sentences (I'm looking for basic concepts to work with, not fully planned stories).

If a oneshot gets enough reviews, I'll make it into a full-fledged story (but I'll stop updating the Mighty Fanfic Collection of DOOM until it's done).

Also: I've had some problems getting reviews lately. I don't know why, but this is going to be my last story unless I get more reviews. PLEASE! PUH-LEASE REVIEW!

Lazily Yours,

-Fanatic Drone N


	2. What happened on Thursday

**12:02 AM, Thursday**

He was doing it again: Trying to take over the world.

Oh, the idiot.

It didn't help that he wanted _me _to do all of the work. Whenever I told him that it was impossible to equip his _blind_ robotic gerbil with laser _vision_, he would call me incompetent, and try to do it himself.

Usually he left me alone after my 'failures' but recently, he'd continue to blame me for the lack of success at taking over the world. I could see him standing there, in the lab, messing around with a hyper spatial expander that wouldn't do anything, and, if it did, would be useless on a robot that couldn't even go into hyperspace.

Eventually I got sick of him, and began searching my memory banks for anything I hadn't looked up before.

The only file that I hadn't seen was a copy of the _Irken Rules of War_. I had known about them ever since Zim mentioned them to the Dib-human, but I had never actually looked at them (I was certain that Zim had broken at least a dozen of them, but since the penalty for breaking them was death, and my primary objective was to protect Zim, I wouldn't tempt myself by knowing I would be able to kill him).

I turned a bleary robotic sensor on the raving lunatic, who was trying to equip his robot with a peanut butter cannon. Maybe just a quick look…

I flipped through them quickly, discovering that Zim had actually tried to follow them. Odd. Then again, Zim was fanatically loyal to the Empire, even if he was terrible at helping it.

… _Any enemy being brought into an Irken base, under Irken control, shall be a prisoner of war, and will be used either as a servant, or for experimentation… Any slave or servant of the Irken Empire that proves them self extraordinarily loyal and helpful to the Irken cause shall be made a full citizen of the Empire… If a three-eyed goat is born on the night of the blue moon-_ I stopped, the implications of that last one hitting me.

If any _slave _or _servant _of the Irken Empire proved themselves extraordinarily loyal and helpful to the Irken cause, they would be made a full Irken citizen… I could be free of Zim.

I certainly qualified a slave or servant (the Irkens considered their computers far more intelligent than other species). This law could apply to me.

Hurriedly, I checked my programming: Helping Zim conquer the Earth took precedence over following Zim's orders. If I wanted to, I could just conquer the entire planet for him.

"Zim." I said.

"Eh?" Returned the little green idiot, busy pulling GIR away from his creation.

"Get out." I said, coldly.

"What? How dare you speak to your master in such-"

"Get out of me _now._"

I threw him and his minions into the elevator shaft with a few of my tentacles. Within seconds, he was at the top floor. I took control of the roboparents, and threw him out the door, ignoring his futile commands.

He stood up, a bit shaken. "Computer! Let me back in this instant, or I'll-"

I stopped paying attention. With a loud screech of metal on metal, I tore the house out of the ground (taking most of the base with me), and began to march towards the nearest human electronics store: I would have to get a lot bigger to defeat the human military. I used one of the massive tentacles I used to walk to suck up streetlights and parked cars into my form. Every wire was added to my processing core, every engine to my motor systems, every battery to my power supply.

Behind me I could see Zim gawking at my growing body. He appeared to swallow his pride (and to my dismay, didn't choke on it), and ran down the street towards Dib's home, obviously seeking help to stop me.

I chuckled as I began assimilating the contents of a 'Best Buy' store. I'd like to see him try.

* * *

A grunting noise awoke Dib in the middle of the night. He glanced at his clock. 12:46. He looked at his window, and saw Zim forcing his way in through a hole. He was frozen with fear for a few seconds, but quickly recovered, grabbed the handle of the pail of water he kept next to his bed, and drenched Zim with it.

Zim, covered in water and writhing in pain, fell to the floor of Dib's bedroom. Dib quickly grabbed a water gun he also kept on his bedside table and aimed it at the alien's head.

"Alright Zim, what's your plan this time? Why didn't you just use a robotic assassin? What's the square root of 1296?'

Zim stood up, and answered through clenched teeth, "My computer's on a rampage, and I need your help! He took all of my competent robots! Thirty- Wait what was that last one?"

Dib opened his mouth to respond, then closed it. They both stood there for a few uncomfortable seconds before Dib said, "…I don't know… Wait, your computer's on a rampage?"

"Yes!" Zim cried, "He's got a mind of his own now! I think he's-"

"Didn't he _always_ have a mind of his own?"

"Well, yes, but he's never really used it to do stuff like this! Usually, he just uses it to screw around on your filthy internet!" Zim retorted angrily.

"Oh… What's he trying to do?"

"Take over the world or something! I don't know!"

"Why would he want to do that?"

"I told you, I don't know!"

"Doesn't your PAK have a scanner or something?"

"…Maybe…" Zim said guardedly.

"And isn't it constantly scanning for danger?"

"How did you find that out!?" Zim demanded angrily.

"I didn't. I was bluffing."

Zim started to spout some colorful alien words, but Dib interrupted him, "Do you have a record of what it scanned?"

"Yes."

"Play it back, and focus on what the computer was thinking."

Zim mentally activated the device. Slowly the irritated look on his face was replaced with a horrified one.

"What?" Dib asked.

"He's going to conquer the Earth so he can claim all the glory, and become a free robot!"

"Oh, no!"

"I know! That's _ZIM'S _mission!"

"No, I just think he could actually do it!"

Zim frowned, "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Never mind… So what do we have to stop him?"

"My mighty robot army! GIR, Minimoose, come to your master!"

GIR crashed through the wall and did a belly flop on Dib's dresser. Minimoose floated through the window with a squeak.

Dib looked out the window, and saw Computer's hulking body advance towards the city.

He sighed, grabbed Minimoose by the antler, and pulled him towards his father's lab in the basement.

* * *

This chapter was (partially) inspired by JoeMerl's, _A Weekend at Earl's_.


	3. There's no place like home

"Honey, the guests are here!"

Dib opened his eyes slowly, and looked at the ceiling. "The nightmare begins…" He said, with the familiar air of someone who has hosted many Thanksgiving parties over the years.

As Dib navigated some annoyingly sharp childrens' toys strewn across the floor, he remembered a time, twenty years ago, when he never would have allowed all of these people into his house. Avoiding a small Lego piece he had come to loathe, he also thought about the sudden end to the Irken Empire's violent expansion, which he had plaid a part in.

He chuckled a bit as he wondered whether or not it was really worth it, if it had made him friends with _these _people.

He opened the door, and quickly greeted the guests streaming into his house: First came Zim, who proudly called out "First!" as he crossed the threshold. Next came Tak, the official Irken ambassador to Earth, who rolled her eyes as Zim did a little victory lap around the entryway. Next came Skoodge, in a shiny new General's uniform, followed closely by High Admiral Tenn. Dib noted with amusement Zim's sudden fascination with his boots when Tenn came in.

Next, some of the more important guests filed in: Lard Nar, Prime Minister of the Vortian Federation (labeled by some of it's citizens as the 'Federation-y'). The former Tallests, who had long since given the power of the Tall to the elected officials of the Reformed Irken Empire, seemed to think of themselves as just as much in charge as they had during their rule, poking into Dib's closets, and laughing at all of his 'Human stuff'.

Sizz-Lorr, governor of Foodcourtia, made a beeline for the kitchen, probably sensing that the food was still cooking, and wanting to help.

Finally, three Introi entered the room. It was already cramped without the twelve foot long snake-lizards with bug wings and extra arms, but Dib was no less pleased to see them, welcoming Scly, Naida, and little Phoi into his home. He even referred to Scly as 'High Council Member', which he found very funny.

Dib closed the door, knowing that GIR, Minimoose, and MiMi would come in through the doggie-door, like they always did.

He turned towards his home, one goal in mind until he knew dinner was ready: Damage control. He quickly moved through the various rooms the visitors were in: The Tallests had already started pigging out on any snacks they could find. Bad, but not horrible.

Zim was telling Ann about the 'good old days', describing their previous loathing for each other as simple childhood antics. Dib smiled, seeing the 'evil' alien tell his daughter stories Scly walked over to Dib, and asked, "What's Ann short for?"

Dib's smile shrank a few teeth. "Andromeda… Zita wanted a 'special' name for her daughter."

"So _that's _why you wanted my advice on naming Varr!"

Scly, ever perceptive, had discovered Dib's revenge for Ann's 'special' name: Zita got to name their first kid, but Dib got to name their second one. Dib had asked Scly for a good Introi name, and he had suggested Varr.

Zita wasn't too happy about it, even when Scly had proudly listed a few Introi heroes named Varr.

"Wasn't Andromeda some Greek princess who almost got eaten by a giant lizard?" Scly asked.

"Now you know why I'm so nervous to have you over."

Scly laughed, and Dib walked towards the kitchen. He looked down, and saw Phoi (Scly's son) playing cowboys with Varr. Oddly enough, Phoi had willingly agreed to be the horse.

Dib stepped into the kitchen, and was immediately amazed by Sizz-Lorr, who was single-handedly cooking the forty pounds of food their guests consumed. Zita was sitting in a chair, obviously relieved that Sizz-Lorr liked doing this, and cheering the FryLord on.

He walked over, and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "Hey, honey. When's dinner going to be ready?"

"With this guy?" Zita said, pointing at Sizz-Lorr, "Ten minutes. Unless you don't mind the second turkey deep-fried." Dib took a closer look at the kitchen, and discovered that Sizz-Lorr had brought his own frying equipment.

Laughing, he left the kitchen, and entered his little library, to check up on the three aliens who found it's contents interesting: Naida (Scly's wife), who was curled up on the armchair with a copy of the _Indian Cultural Atlas_, High Admiral Tenn, who was just standing in the middle of the room, reading a history textbook and muttering to herself: "A bunch of Mongolian archers on horses attack China and win… Huh…"

A sudden burst of laughter drew Dib's attention to Skoodge, who was reading one of his old comic books.

A thump from the ceiling drew his attention. He climbed up the stairs, and quickly walked into the guest room, almost sure of who was screwing around.

He was right: GIR was hanging on to Minimoose, who was floating around the room like a hot air balloon. MiMi sat on the floor, watching them. Dib was laughing at the tricks GIR was pulling off, until two words from downstairs cut him off: "Dinner's ready!"

He barely had time to get out of the way before GIR flew past him, singing his clothes with his jets. Minimoose floated out of the room in his usual lethargic way, and MiMi, disguised as a cat, slipped between his legs.

Dib walked downstairs, and was greeted with the usual image of his house at Thanksgiving: All the guests were politely sitting at a very long table, in stark contrast to the mess they had left around them.

Dib started to walk towards his seat, when the doorbell rang. He quickly looked over the guests: No one was missing (even Keef, who always managed to sneak in).

He walked to the door, very confused, trying to figure out who it was: The postal service was closed, his other human friends celebrated Thanksgiving with their own families, and the F.B.I. never came on holidays…

He opened the door, and saw the last person in the world he'd expect to be there: Professor Membrane.

Dib and his father hadn't spoken to each other in months, mostly because of Dib's insistence on the existence of aliens. His father had told him, on no uncertain terms, that he needed to grow up.

"Dad… Um, I wasn't expecting you…"

"Yes, I didn't expect to be here myself… Listen, Dib…I'm sorry about that fight we had… You are allowed to have your own…opinions. I don't care that much about it, and I'm more concerned about being a good father. And grandfather, though I still don't know why you named him 'Varr'."

Dib smiled, "It's a long story. I'll explain it over dinner. It's good to have you over." He gave the Professor a hug, and tried to ignore the soft 'Aww's coming from the dinning room.

"So," He said, leading his father into the house, "Are you still taking those heart pills?"

The Professor smiled, which was surprisingly easy to see, even under the lab coat, and said, "Dib, I'm a _scientist_. I can't be having heart attacks whenever something amazing happens."

"Well, that's good: You're in for a surprise."

He lead the Professor around the corner, and steadied him when he stiffened from shock.

Every single alien in the room was beaming at him, helping Dib with his shining triumph, his final victory against his father's stubbornness.

For a few long seconds nothing happened, until Scly broke the ice. "Good evening, Professor! Would you like to carve the turkey?"

* * *

Author's Notes: Yes, I put Dib and Zita together. It just seemed right.

Scly, Naida, and Phoi are some of my characters, who star in Analysis and The HAIR awards (though Phoi doesn't exist yet, and Scly and Naida aren't married).


	4. Anniversary

This one's a little short, but I think it's a pretty good idea. I won't be turning this one into a full-fledged fic, but if someone else wants to, just ask.

* * *

"I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!"

The entire class looked with surprise at Zita, who had just slammed her fists down on her desks and screamed to the heavens. Nobody was sure exactly _what_ had set her off, but the look on her face said one thing: I'm really, REALLY, _**PISSED OFF!**_

"You two idiots have been fighting non-stop for a YEAR!" She yelled, pointing a finger at Zim's nose-less face.

The two 'idiots' had been in one of their fights, which had been getting more and more frequent lately. Zita had seemed to be taking it, but a split second after she had looked up at the calendar, she had screamed.

"One year!" She continued, standing up on her chair, "I have it written right down here: September Eight, last year, 'A new kid named Zim joined the class today, and Dib started calling him an alien.' After that there's a juice stain from where Zim spilled my drink at lunch, and the bottom half of the page is torn out. THIS-ENDS-NOW!"

Zita grabbed Zim by the collar and marched up to the front of the room, where Ms. Sours (Ms. Bitters's cousin) was taking a nap.

"Happy anniversary!" She snapped to Zim, who was desperately trying to wiggle free, "So, Dib, you said that Zim's hair is a wig? And that his eyes are just contact lenses?"

Dib nodded sheepishly. The entire class stared in shock at Zita, who held Zim in a death grip. Some of them were looking up at the calendar, and realizing that it _had_ been three-hundred and sixty-five days since Ms. Bitters had said 'Class, I'd like to introduce you to the newest, hopeless appendage to the student body: His name is Zim.'

"Weeeeeeeellllllllllll," She said, a manic light in her eyes, "Time for some vindication, eh?!"

She grabbed Zim's wig, and pulled out what she thought was a handful of hair. In her temporary insanity, she didn't notice that the entire wig was sitting there, lopsided and mussed up.

She dropped Zim to the ground, but before he could dive for his wig, Zita started slapping him on the back, _hard_.

"Very good, Zim!" Slap, "We managed to prove you're not an alien!" Slap, "Maybe we wouldn't have to do this," Slap, "If you and Dib," Slap, "Had just left us alone!" Slap.

"You see!" She said grabbing the dizzy little Invader by the collar again and marching towards Dib, "He's not an alien! Wow! This'll have to go in you paranormal logbooks: Today, Zita pointed out the obvious!" She said, doing a stupid-sounding imitation of Dib's voice.

"Now," She said, walking back to the front, dragging Zim behind her, "I have settled scientific curiosity, and we can finally get on with our lives!"

Suddenly, she heard a crunching sound. She looked down, and saw that she had stepped on one of Zim's contacts, which she had knocked out when she was hitting him on the back. She slowly looked up at the other one and the wig, then up to the pale, gaping class, then to Dib's triumphant grin, and finally down at the unmasked Irkens rapidly growing hateful visage.

She looked back up. "Oh…"


End file.
